I feel like I’m floating. It takes me a minute to realize that I’m in Michael’s arms and he’s carrying me towards the bedroom. I should stop this. I won’t survive if he lashes out at me again, but I don’t want to stop it. The only two things I want in this world are Maggie and Michael. I shove the fear aside and curl into his arms, kissing his shoulder. I’m surprised when he brings his head down to kiss the top of my head. It makes me smile. I touch his soft beard, letting my fingertips disappear into the dark hair. I find the spot he always scratches and find the dark groove of the scar there. I let my fingers dance over the ridge carefully. I feel a tremor run through his body. For a moment, I’m worried that I’ve upset him, and I start to take my hand away.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

“I like it,” he grunts out and the deep sound of hunger in his voice, can’t be denied, so I continue playing. When we get to the bed he lays me on it like I’m something extremely valuable and precious. It seems like irony that he lays beside our wall of pillows—one that obviously didn’t work well. He throws them on the ground impatiently and then straightens to look down at me. “You’re beautiful, Hayden,” he says again and I grin, thinking he’s starting to sound like a broken record. I realize he’s doing it to make me believe it. I’m not sure that’s ever going to be possible, but the thing is, when he says it…I’m starting to believe he thinks it.

“Is it alright to admit I’m nervous about this—despite what just happened?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I tell him, unable to articulate any further, because all the things I want to say are clogged inside of me. I can’t say them to him because it might make me sound like a fool—or end in me begging him to love me.

“I’ll be gentle, Beauty. We’ll go as slow and as easy as you want. I just…need to be a part of you again,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving my face. I might have been able to resist anything else. Maybe. But, the way he says that, unleashes something inside of me…something that has been holding me back from giving myself to Michael fully. What woman could remain strong, when the man she’s in love with tells her he needs to be part of her. This is deeper than just sex.

“I want that too,” I tell him, my voice heavy with emotion and the moment so important to me that I can feel tears forming. Being pregnant makes me cry at the drop of a hat, but this is more…this is important. My breath stalls as he pushes his pants from his hips. They were already hanging so low you could see a dark thatch of hair, but when they fall from him, they reveal just how amazing he is. Even scarred he still reminds me of a Greek god. All hard lines and perfectly defined areas that are this golden hue as if the sun has kissed every inch of him. His scars never bothered me, except that I know they were painful for him. How any woman could look upon them and not love them, especially since they are a symbol of the type of man he is, is beyond me. Right now I can’t devote time to even thinking about them, because I’m suddenly remembering how huge Michael is and how being with him might be challenging right now.

“I’ll be gentle,” he confirms again, and I think that means my fear shows on my face. I try to swallow it down. I know Michael would never hurt me—not like that. He’s always been gentle with me, even in the heat of sex.

“I know,” I assure him, and I do. He gets on the bed, instantly positioning himself over me. Michael’s the only man in the world that would make me feel small—especially right now.

I watch as he sits back on his knees, between my legs. He takes his shaft in his hand and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning out at the erotic picture he makes. He strokes himself slowly, looking down at my body as if I’m a prize from a war he has waged. My body thrusts up toward his, almost against my will. I can’t look away as I watch pre-cum gather on the massive head of his cock.

“Hungry, Beauty?” he half-laughs. He has no idea, not really. In answer I use my legs to pull myself down on the bed a little, pulling myself closer to him. I bend my knees, keeping my legs spread wide to allow him room. In response, a smile spreads on his face, causing that crinkle I adore around his eyes. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, right before he moves the head of his cock against my pussy. I cry out. There’s no way I could stop it when the head of his shaft slides against my clit. Back and forth, and then down to my entrance. He pushes just the head of his cock inside and somehow it only emphasizes how empty I am without him.

“Please, Michael,” I beg. “Stop teasing me.”

“Give me your hand,” he orders, and his voice is so gruff, so full of hunger that it’s just as erotic as what he’s doing to my body. I look up and his face is intense. I reach out to him and his hand connects with mine. Our palms meet and his heat instantly invades my body. His fingers thread through mine and we join hands at the exact time he pushes in, joining our bodies.

“God yes. I’ve missed you, Michael.”

“Don’t let me go too far, Hayden,” he says and it’s then that I realize, he’s inside of me, but not as deep as when we were first together. He’s holding back to protect me—to protect Maggie. It can’t be easy for him either. If anything was left of that feeble wall I tried to keep between us, this just destroyed it. I feel him moving in and out of me and I start to reassure him I’m fine, but then I see the moment he starts to go over the edge. He begins moving in me faster and faster. His other hand comes down to find my clit and I shatter. I feel him follow me. Feel his cum stream inside of me in a steady flow of heat and I grip his hand tighter, cry out his name. In this moment, the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life is Michael calling my name out in answer.

I was a fool to think I could ever give him up.